


Festively Besieged

by Torak (awmperry)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Action, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Humour, SIYE challenge entries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-04
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awmperry/pseuds/Torak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Winner of Best Adventure in the SIYE Marauders Map Challenge)<br/>Five years after Voldemort's defeat, a hostage situation threatens the anniversary celebrations - and the only ones who can save the day are Harry, Ginny, and a large black dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Festively Besieged

**Author's Note:**

> This story was co-written with Fett dFacto, whose curious user name belies an entertainingly cynical mind. We've bounced ideas back and forth on a few earlier challenges, but this is the first one we've co-written properly. Should be fun.
> 
> Oh, and the story is slightly AU in that Wormtail is assumed to have survived the events of DH, and Draco wasn't Deus-Ex-Machinaed into a good guy. Other than that, it's canon all the way. Mostly. Except, y'know, the whole Sirius thing, obviously. Turns out the veil was just a portal to Hell. So as soon as he'd found his way back from Las Vegas, Sirius was back in the thick of things.
> 
> Reviews are very much appreciated - as is constructive criticism. Thanks for reading.

##  ** Festively Besieged**

*      *      *

_In 1998, the Dark Lord was defeated. Or a Dark Lord, anyway; they have a habit of coming around every half-century or so, rather like good music. The point is, Voldemort had been naughty, and now he was dead, largely because Harry Potter couldn't tell the difference between magic and recreational necromancy. _

_The war hadn't ended with that final battle, of course. There were still Death Eaters at large, and some sympathisers still remained. Six months of investigations and purges followed Potter's victory, until the Ministry of Magic finally announced in December 1998 that the scourge of Voldemort had been conclusively eradicated. _

_Now, in 2003, a ball is planned at Hogwarts to celebrate the five-year anniversary of Voldemort's final defeat. _

_And the last eight Death Eaters have been biding their time. _

*      *      *

Bathed in the red early-evening light of the setting midwinter sun, two figures stood by the lake staring up at... well, to be fair, really just a big chunk of rock. The Ministry cheerily referred to it as a 'spire', but cutbacks had meant that the granite obelisk wasn't much taller than its base was wide. That said, it wasn't for its architectural or artistic value that the two found themselves drawn to it.

Harry squeezed her hand as they looked at the memorial, the grey obelisk carved with too many names. Ginny could recite over a quarter of them, and over a dozen were etched into her mind. Everyone sitting on the Remembrance Committee had a personal stake in it, but Ginny seemed to have the most. Just looking at the obelisk made the pain raw again. Her uncles, Fred, Tonks...

Not to mention her arse after hours spent arguing over what sodding shade of grey to make it.

"At least there were less victims this time around," said Harry softly.

Ginny nodded. "Right, come on — up to the castle. I want to get sorted out before we have to start playing hide-and-seek with the Prophet."

"Yeah."

The walk up to Hogwarts was filled with happier memories. The memorial was by the lake and they ended up going past what had been one of their favourite spots to sit and talk. Well, sit, anyway. That was the other draw of coming back here — a chance to revisit that blissful three weeks they'd had together.

They ended up taking a bit of a detour to the entrance, meandering around the grounds and just drinking the restored school in. The last time either of them had been here it'd only had the bare minimum done to get it functioning as a school again, but now there was no sign of the fierce battle that had been waged. Well, not entirely fierce. Ginny could remember giggling insanely during a brief lull when she saw Trelawney answering Hogwarts' call. While Professor McGonagall had animated all sorts of objects to aid in the fight, Professor Sprout had used dangerous plants, and Professor Flitwick had used offensive charms, Trelawney had dropped crystal balls on people.

There was one last, unplanned, trip down memory lane before they went inside. As they neared the Whomping Willow a big black dog ran toward them barking and drooling. Unless Sirius had been exceptionally unsuccessful with his latest girlfriend, however, it was someone's escaped pet; it had, Ginny noticed, been neutered.

On the other hand, less testosterone would probably do Sirius a world of good.

"Where've you come from, then?" said Ginny, squatting down and stroking the dog. The dog licked her face with its rough tongue. She grimaced and wiped off the drool with the back of her hand. "Where's your owner? Do you know how to do the ownership spell, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm an auror — we're more concerned with missing secrets than missing dogs. Someone in the school might know, and there's nowhere else to take it, anyway."

"Come on then," said Ginny, conjuring a rope as a makeshift leash. "Walkies."

The dog barked and then took her for a walk toward the school, madly wagging its tail and drooling all the way. It was the drooliest dog Ginny had ever seen. It was funny (or so Harry seemed to think), but, more importantly, it was all over her face.

*      *      *

"Harry!" Minerva McGonagall's face lit up as she saw the young auror step into the Great Hall. "And you're early, too."

Harry wandered in, picking his way through the bustle of busy house-elves preparing the Hall for the evening's ceremonies.

"The Ball starts at eight, but we shall need you down for the rehearsal at six o'clock. We simply need to make sure the award ceremony goes smoothly."

The elves were outdoing themselves. A vast banner hung across the centre of the Hall, with an embroidered portrait of Harry smirking down at the tables. (It wasn't even a good likeness, if Harry was any judge.) The enormous stained-glass window, shattered during the final battle, had been replaced with a new one, showing Harry standing over Voldemort's corpse. (That wasn't a good likeness either.) Magic cameras were everywhere, even two or three fluttering around the hall on matte black wings, and a couple of microphones were attached here and there by the rather down-to-earth magic of gaffer tape.

"'Nooo, Harry, it won't be a media circus'" Harry muttered to himself, remembering his conversation with the Minister earlier that year. "Never trust a politician."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing, Professor." He paused for a moment. "Um, rehearsal at six... will you be needing me before then?"

"I shouldn't think so, Harry," McGonagall said. "You have ample time to rest after your journey."

Harry smiled gratefully. "Then I think I'll leave you to it — Ginny and I wanted to take a look around, see how the old place is holding up."

"Off you go then," McGonagall smiled back.

Harry headed back to the door, where Ginny stood chatting to someone Harry probably should have recognised. But the young woman was holding the dog's leash, which probably meant Ginny had found the owner. Either that, or she was the mastermind behind an international dog-stealing racket, and she didn't have that Criminal Mastermind look about her. Harry wrapped an arm round Ginny's waist.

"Shall we?"

*      *      *

It had been such a simple plan. They were going to drop their bags in the guest suite they'd been allocated, and then they would wander around the castle and grounds, reacquainting themselves with old memories.

They'd got as far as their suite, and then forgotten their plan. And their luggage. And pretty much everything except each other.

Ginny grinned down.

"You're good at that, Harry. Consider it —" She gasped. "— payment. After all, there's no such thing as a free-"

Harry's Flux Ring chirped; he ignored it.

"My healer recommends that we-" The ring chirped again, louder, interrupting Ginny, but still Harry ignored it. "-twice a day."

Harry came up for air. "We'll have to cut down, then."

Then the ring harrumphed, and a few moments later emitted a noise somewhere between an air raid siren and a foghorn.

Harry's head popped out from inside Ginny's blouse, ruffled hair catching in the buttons. He swore, and fumbled for the ring.

"Yes?" he hissed.

Minerva McGonagall's voice drifted from the ring, tinny but unmistakable.

"Harry, you were supposed to be here for the rehearsal half an hour ago. Are you all right?"

Harry's gaze shot up to the clock on the wall, and he leapt to his feet.

Then he tripped over the tangle of fabric bunched around his ankles, and fell face-first to the floor with a muffled "Bugger".

He scrabbled to his feet, adjusted his clothing, and grabbed the ring.

"I'm on my way, Professor. We, uh, fell asleep." He gave Ginny an apologetic kiss and left the room at a run.

Ginny blinked. Things had happened very fast, and she wasn't quite sure what was going on.

More and more neurons started waking up from their hormone-addled haze, and it gradually dawned on her that she was still in bed, suddenly alone, and, not to put too fine a point on it, um... well, not finished. And Harry was gone.

A moment's careful exploration proved unsuccessful, and she glanced around for inspiration.

Her gaze fell on the Marauders' Map, lying innocent and unsuspecting on the bedside table. A thought flickered through her mind, eliciting a flaring blush and a brief hesitation — but only for a moment.

She reached out and grabbed the map.

A quick wave of her wand applied a sticking charm, and after rolling the map tightly and magically rounding off one end, she cast a simple waterproofing charm on the resulting cylinder.

With barely a hint of reticence, she reached down.

*      *      *

Hermione — who had installed herself in her suite (which Ron was still busily untidying) an hour earlier — had just settled back with a good book in front of the fire in the guest tower's common room, when Ginny came gingerly down the stairs. That in itself was a marked contrast to Ginny's usual stampede, but she grew concerned when she noticed that Ginny was wincing with every step.

"Ginny? What's the matter?"

Ginny picked her way across to the corridor leading to the luxurious bathroom they shared.

"I'm fine," she said as the door swung shut behind her. "Just a paper cut."

*      *      *

One hot, salty bath later, and Ginny found herself fit and largely sting-free once more. Just in time, as it were, to dress for the ball.

"Remind me again why I can't just break my legs?" said Harry, running a finger around the collar of the overly ornate, stiff, lurid orange dress uniform.

Ginny reached up and fixed the ribbon with his Order of Merlin, First Class With Lots Of Twinklies, centring it on his chest again. "Because your boss has threatened to fire you if you pull another stunt like the one at the French embassy Solstice Ball."

"So? It's not like we need the money."

Ginny snorted and looked him up and down, eyeing up his still messy hair. "It's not about punishment, is it dear? It's about how you, my reprobate brother, Neville and the demonic duo decided that the pair of them would dress up as little old ladies and start a pro-Voldemort protest outside the embassy holding flaming baguettes and shouting 'Garcon' over and over again. The three of you chased after them and _never came back_. You left me in a room full of _politicians_. _Alone_."

"It wasn't that bad," said Harry.

Ginny's cheeks burned at the memory. "I've never been more embarrassed in my life, Potter."

"Including that time Teddy had a tantrum in Flourish and Blotts?"

"Well... no."

"Or when your Mum opened —"

"No."

"How about those publicity photos with the fl-?"

"No."

Harry gave her a winning smile. "What's the problem, then?"

Ginny bit her tongue. This was going to turn into an argument if they kept on going, and she could be doing without that tonight. She liked public appearances no more than Harry, but she managed to deal with them without being grumpy the day before then resorting to excuses even Teddy would find implausible.

"The problem, Potter, is that you owe me an entire evening of dancing to make up for third year — and if you turn tail and run yet again I'm not going to be happy."

"Third Year?" said Harry, taking her hand and leading her out of the bedroom. "What did I do to you in third year? I barely realised you existed."

Ginny just looked at him. "Not to mention asking me to the ball only _after_ I'd accepted Neville's invitation. Have you any idea how many times I'd dreamt of that in the preceding month?"

"I'll do my best," said Harry, kissing her on the cheek.

"One evening might not be enough," murmured Ginny as they made their way out of the suite and toward the Great Hall.

Harry grinned and kissed her again. "Shame."

"You'd better not shame me," warned Ginny, lifting the hem of her dress-robes as they descended the stairs. She'd swear the portraits were behaving even worse than usual. One of them wolf-whistled at her and the Fat Lady was probably drunk already judging by how merry the rest of them were. "Smile graciously when people applaud and want to shake your hand. And _please_ try not to rile Skeeter any more than strictly necessary."

"You collect the clippings. Not to mention _that_ cartoon."

"It was funny," protested Ginny, poking his arm.

Harry scowled. "I had people coming up to me in the street and congratulating me on my coronation. Diggle accused Kingsley of deposing me. And then the Quibbler picked it up and ran a marathon with it."

"I know. You moaned about it then too. And Luna sent us a free copy of the Quibbler."

Harry sighed.

"Smile, Harry. You've got an entire evening with me in your arms ahead of you, and I'd like to be looking into your eyes rather than that scowl you're about to display."

Harry turned and gave her the most artificial smile she'd ever seen. "Better?"

Ginny nodded. "Just don't do that near Skeeter: She might try to copy you and her face'd fall off."

They were the last into the small room off the entrance hall where the VIPs were supposed to wait until everything was ready in the Great Hall. Hermione tapped her watch meaningfully when she saw them.

"Ah, Harry," said Kingsley, ushering them over to where he was talking with Harry's boss. "Ready to give your speech?"

"As I'll ever be," said Harry, dipping a hand into his pocket to touch the cards his speech was written on. "I'd rather go through induction again than do this."

"That can be arranged if you like. Louis, can you re-jig the roster so Harry's on the Staff for this year's Auror intake?"

Ginny bit her lip to hold back the laughter as Harry blanched.

"_A desk job?_"

Kingsley's lips twitched. "It's all part of the learning process, Harry. Besides, a future team leader needs a wide breadth of knowledge — the logistical experience should do you good."

"You mean working out which bureaucrat to thump to get what we need, don't you?" said Harry tiredly.

"No idea what you're talking about," said Kingsley airily. "I haven't heard anything about your team's rather... strange... expenses either. What was the pressure washer for?"

Harry shook his head a fraction.

The light-hearted expression on Kinglsey's face vanished. "Is this sensitive? Or..."

Ginny stepped away to give them a bit of space. Everyone was here now they'd shown up: Kingsley; Ron and Hermione; Hugh Jampton, the head of the Remembrance Committee; and the head of the Wizengamot Judicial branch. From the expression on his and Ron's faces, Hermione was using the time to try and influence him into a bit of judicial activism and common law interpretation — again. Not only did he look bored stiff, but Ron was mouthing the words as Hermione said them.

Ginny turned as the door opened, expecting to see an usher telling them it was all about to start. Sirius ambled through the door instead, a lazy smile on his face. Ginny waved at him.

"Hi Ginny," said Sirius, eyes gleaming. "I see you've managed to keep Harry here this time."

Ginny's answer was short, eloquent and would probably have given her Mum an aneurysm given how close she was to all those important politicians.

Sirius just grinned wider. "Don't tell Harry. I want to surprise him."

"Surprise him? All he has to do is turn around and he'll see you. Not much of a surprise, Sirius. You're slipping. And why aren't you in the Amazon?"

"Because."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Because is not a reason, Sirius. It sounds like the sort of thing George says when we ask him why he decided to test forgetfulness potion on himself."

"Well... I caught some sort of infectious disease," said Sirius, scratching his leg in a way that reminded Ginny of Padfoot. "It itches like anything."

"So you were free to come here because you're too ill to go hunting for plants and dart frogs?"

Sirius nodded. "Relax, Ginny," he said as she stepped back a couple of paces. "It's only mildly contagious."

Ginny was about to retort, when a voice from just outside the door sent her scurrying to take her place on Harry's arm.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the saviour of the wizarding world, Mr Harry Potter GOM!"

*      *      *

It was two hours later. Harry and Ginny had made their escape as soon as they could without causing a scandal, in favour of finding somewhere to work on their scandal-causing in private.

What they didn't know was that oooh, about fifteen minutes ago now, the Minister and his security detail had left. Five minutes after that, interesting things had started happening, and they were about to make themselves known.

But for now, Harry had better things to do.

He shoved the sheet out of the way and continued, slowly kissing his way up Ginny's body, smiling against her neck as she made a distinctly encouraging noise in the back of her throat. Then her eyes widened.

"_Bugger_," she breathed.

Harry grinned down at her. "If you in —"

Ginny rolled them off the bed, Harry gasping as he hit the floor and hot pain welled up in his back (and a couple of other parts that, in their unrestrained state, had hit the floor quite hard as well). His _What the hell was that for?_ died a grisly death as a pair of stunners shaved the top of Ginny's head.

Why couldn't people just leave him _alone_?

Ginny climbed off him and sent the bedside table crashing to the floor, snatching up their wands from the scattered mess as Harry jerked himself into a sitting position.

The pair of Death Eaters looked at him, smiled, then jumped on the bed, wands raised.

Thinking with unaccustomed speed, Harry grabbed their legs and yanked. The two went over backwards, yelping in surprise as they thudded to the floor.

Ginny banished the mahogany four-poster backward, smashing it into the wall and turning the umpteen-hundred-year-old bed into umpteen hundred brand new matchsticks. And two lumps of groaning Death Eater.

"Oh, shut up," growled Ginny at the screaming pile of wood, levelling the wands in her hands at it. "Stupefy."

Ginny stood and advanced on the pile, systematically re-stunning whatever limbs stuck out. She kicked one of the legs before turning back to Harry. "You alright?"

Harry winced as he stood up straight, his back pulsing in protest. "I'm fine."

Ginny laughed as she tossed his wand to him. "Where have I heard that before? _Accio_ map!"

Harry caught the map as it zoomed past him and spread it out against the wall. His eyes were immediately caught by the dot labelled '_Peter Pettigrew_' in the Great Hall, standing in front of three rows of guests with five Death Eaters behind them. At least Harry assumed they were Death Eaters; he couldn't think why anyone would willingly associate with Wormtail and Draco Malfoy otherwise.

"They're taking us hostage, then?" said Ginny, putting an arm around his waist and leaning against him. "What do you think they want?"

Harry shrugged. "Release of their friends, probably. I don't know, though. Wormtail looks like the one in charge — an actual goal seems a bit too complicated for him. Am I slipping? Three years without anyone trying to kill me, and then they put together this half-arsed effort."

"You're saying that you _want_ someone to threaten your life?"

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't feel like a normal year otherwise. Birthday, Christmas, New Year and attempted murder in June."

They scanned the rest of the map, finding nothing but Sirius and some woman — a dot with two names — in one of the bedrooms.

"So that's five plus an inbred Malfoy."

He turned to look at the pile of timber, three legs and four arms sticking out. "I think there's two under that, Ginny — probably. I'll give MLE a ring and get the hit wizards up here, then we'll go and hide at the top of Gryffindor Tower so we're less likely to get hit when they curse everything in a five-mile radius."

"The big bad Aurors have an inferiority complex, do they?" asked Ginny as Harry looked among the shards of broken lamp and escapees from Ginny's now wide open jewellery box for his flux ring. He hadn't seen the point of bringing her jewellery box with her to begin with, but hadn't said anything because the last thing he needed was Ginny — the only thing making the earlier idiocy tolerable — in a snit. Now he was suddenly aware of how many gold rings she had. All so understated as to be unrecognisable from each other at first glance — and from his flux ring.

Ginny bent down, picked up a ring, and handed it to him. "You're the one who buys them all, Harry. It's your own fault."

Harry said nothing, just put the flux ring on his finger and tapped it with his wand. He hadn't bought her all those rings, had he? Visions of last minute panic buying reared their ugly heads. Better switch old reliable to white gold in the future, just in case. He was sure something similar would happen again.

After all, he was Harry 'Cosmic Plaything' Potter.

Harry tapped his ring again, the green light still dark.

"Was it working earlier?" said Ginny, glancing at the fireplace. "After... that call? There's no floo powder in here, so unless we venture into the storerooms we're not getting a message out."

Harry nodded and cast a diagnostic spell on the ring. "Ron was taking the mickey out of my speech over it. The ring's working, so..."

Ginny's eyes got a dangerous glint. "What?"

"If the ring's working, the only reason I can't ring DMLE is because someone's cast an inhibitor on the area. And up until now, that was DMLE only."

Ginny swore. "And if they've got someone on the inside, they'll have probably taken out the floo too." She smiled tightly at him. "So it's business as usual, then."

"That's me," said Harry, feeling the familiar tightening in his gut. "Regular superman. Sirius first?"

"Harry?" said Ginny, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder as he headed for the door. "Even if he can't dress himself properly, Superman at least wears clothes."

Harry flushed and began looking around for his trousers. "Good point."

Ginny slowly ran a finger down his chest, electricity crackling in its wake. "Temporarily, of course."

For once Harry didn't take the time to watch Ginny get dressed. He threw on the green T-shirt and black jeans he came in, then his socks and shoes. Ginny was almost ready before he was. It was a pity she couldn't get dressed that fast whenever they were running late — which was, Harry had to admit, most of the time, and usually his fault somewhere down the line (or so he'd been repeatedly told).

Harry picked the map up and turned out the lights as Ginny put her hair up into a scruffy ponytail. "All set?"

Ginny grabbed her wand off the floor and walked over to him, that blazing look on her face that got him every time. "Ready."

"Watch yourself," said Harry, turning the map to the area just outside the guest suite. "They say it's third time lucky."

"That's my line," whispered Ginny as she tilted her head up.

Harry smiled and lent toward her. "I know."

*      *      *

Harry brought her to a halt by tugging on the belt loop his finger was threaded through. "Death Eater crossing," he whispered.

"On _this_ floor?" replied Ginny, aiming her wand squarely in the middle of the archway to the main staircase.

"Ground floor."

_Would have been nice if he'd told me without prompting,_ she thought. Was this really her husband the auror? He was still acting like Harry Potter, paragon of winging it. That said, they were finally reliving their school days properly — back then, not a year had gone past without fighting for their lives (or worrying about Harry's, in her case). This was turning into a bigger trip down memory lane than they had expected.

Hopefully this time they'd manage to run the rat over properly.

Ginny jumped as Harry lightly slapped her bum. "If I refuse to move," she whispered as they made their way out onto the staircases, "will you do that again?"

Her eyes fluttered closed for an instant as he kissed behind her ear. "Now's — not — the — time," he said as he trailed kisses down her neck, his soft voice giving Ginny distinctly welcome but unwanted flashbacks. She wondered if she should be concerned that he knew her body well enough to be able to do something like that while they were not only moving, but also invisible. Still, all exercise was good exercise, or so the Harpies coach said.

Though as he was male, and leered at Gwen when he said it, that advice was ever so slightly suspect.

"Left at the top," whispered Harry as they carefully made their way up to the fourth floor landing.

The Death Eaters seemed content to remain near the Great Hall, so with the exception of Harry's breath making her skin tingle, the rest of their trip was completely uneventful. Ginny wasn't entirely sure how much longer she could stay this maddeningly close to him before dragging him toward a broom closet. She'd never seriously entertained the thought while they were in school — there wasn't the space, for one thing — but desperate times and all that.

"We're clear," whispered Harry as they stopped at the door to Sirius' guest room. He let go of her belt loop and removed the charm, opening the door the instant he was mostly visible... and froze as a woman's startled shriek seemed to blow his bloody ears off.

Ginny spun around in the direction of the stairs. The sound seemed to echo around the deathly quiet corridor — easily loud enough, Ginny thought, to be heard in the Great Hall. She scurried to the stairwell and waited in the sponge-like silence for a couple of minutes, expecting to hear the sound of hammering feet on the stone stairs, but no Death Eaters appeared to ruin her day again.

Sirius and a woman with curly brown hair were sitting up in his bed when she went in, the woman even redder than Harry. Sirius, true to form, seemed at best non-plussed at being walked in on. Ginny thought he might have enjoyed it, judging by the glint in his eye. Or it was the prospect of a fight. You never could quite tell with Sirius.

And he wondered why he was a dog.

"Hetty, Ginny; Ginny, Hetty," said Sirius, looking between them. "No Death Eaters coming to investigate, then?"

"Not yet," she said, perching on the chest of drawers opposite the door. "I've placed an alarm charm on the stairs to give us a bit of a warning, and the door's locked."

"I've given Sirius and Hetty a basic sitrep," said Harry, running a hand through his hair. "Anything to add before we make a start?"

"Have they had a look at the map?"

Harry gently threw it over to them. "They have now."

"Where'd you get this?" said Sirius as he unfolded the map.

"The twins gave it to me in second year," said Ginny as Hetty shifted over to look at the map with Sirius. "Why?"

"This is amazing!" said Hetty, eyes wide. "How old were they when they made it?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "The twins didn't make this. This is Pettigrew's — yes, the same one that's trying to hold us hostage — copy of a map my friends and I — well, mainly Remus — made when we were at school. Pettigrew was as incompetent as always and managed to get it confiscated by Filch — we never did manage to get it back."

Harry sat next to Ginny and took her hand. "Let's hope he's still incompetent, then, as it's us four — "

"Three," said Hetty, meeting their eyes for the first time. "I work for the floo office, not the DMLE. I'm quite happy to wait for the Ministry."

Ginny stared at her for a moment, then turned to look at Harry. She did know the rings were out, didn't she?

Harry nodded.

Ginny waved her hand toward the fireplace. "Be my guest."

Hetty carefully wrapped the top-sheet around her, then climbed out of bed and walked over to the fireplace. The fireplace lit with a wave of her wand, then she proceeded to root around in her handbag for an unbearable amount of time. Ginny's mind helpfully filled in the pictures of Death Eaters gathering outside the door as Hetty emptied her handbag of more instant-cosmetics than Ginny had seen outside an apothecary's.

"Can I help?" said Harry, scratching his ear. Ginny wasn't the only one aware of the time if Harry was so impatient he was scratching his ear already.

Hetty shook her head. "I'm just looking for... here it is!"

Ginny bit back the urge to applaud as Hetty brandished aloft a twist of parchment. "Yes?"

Hetty, still beaming, threw it in the fire as if it were the quaffle at a 150 — 0 international just before the opposition got the snitch.

The end result was glorious, and firmly placed Hetty on a pedestal — not necessarily the good kind, but a pedestal none the less — in their minds. The paper burned, releasing the powder and turning the fire green.

Nothing useful, but it was a very nice, very pointless, very time-consuming green fire.

Harry gave Sirius a _Where'd-you-find-her_ look.

Sirius shrugged apologetically.

"Anyway," said Ginny, ignoring the wet lettuce as her bottom lip trembled, "ideas, anyone?"

"We need a plan," said Harry as Sirius began reaching for his shirt. "There's six of them plus the two inbred purebloods Ginny flattened, so we need any force multipliers we can get our hands on."

"Here's the plan," said Sirius, quickly doing up the buttons on his shirt. "We blow the doors off the Great Hall then take them out." All three of them turned to look at him. "What? It's tried and tested."

Hetty blinked. "I thought you were intelligent when you were trying to get into my knickers."

"And you're more attractive talking with your mouth full."

"I think I understand why even the hitwizards wouldn't take you," said Harry slowly, staring off into space. "Stop thinking like a wannabe MLE officer and start thinking like a prankster, Sirius. What have we got here that we can weaponise?"

"Potions lab," said Ginny. "There are plenty of agents that have a violent attitude to water, never mind each other."

Sirius grinned. "Using the student stores, I can make a moderate explosive in fifteen minutes if you can wait that long. Not to mention all those suits of armour hanging around. We used to heat the gauntlets then throw them at people."

"You're all Gryffindors," said Hetty, scowling at them from the pointless green fire.

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

Ginny nodded understandingly. "Better to live on your back than die on your feet, yes?"

The three of them ignored Hetty as she began indignantly defending herself. If it kept her out of their hair all the better.

"Kreacher!" called Harry.

Kreacher appeared with a pop. "Ye —"

"Kreacher, can you bring us the student stores and two of every type of instrument and cauldron from the potions lab?" said Ginny, giving Hetty a quizzical look as she stared at Kreacher . "And do it silently, please."

"You're just going to get killed," said Hetty into the silence left in Kreacher's wake. "They have _hostages_! What do you think they're going to do when they see you blast down the door?"

Sirius beamed at her. "They're going to think _That's one sexy beast_ and stare in awe at the Adonis."

"And what about when they see you, Sirius?" said Ginny, squeezing Harry's leg.

"Are you all _mad_?" shouted Hetty.

"I'm as sane as the next man," said Sirius.

"I know it's hard to believe," said Harry, using his wand to stretch the dresser into a rough copy of a potions workbench. "But then, when the next person to Sirius is normally George Weasley, sane is a rather... relative term."

Hetty pointed at Harry with a trembling finger. "They'll kill the hostages, and you're _stealing_ and —"

"Can you call the Cavalry, Hetty?" snapped Ginny, jumping off the dresser and stepping toward her. "Because we've tried — as have you — and we couldn't. So, unless you've got a super-sized magical trunk with a fairy gate inside that goes straight into the middle of MLE, we're all you've got to save that pretty neck of yours. So shut-up, or put-up or else it won't be Death Eaters you need to worry about. Understood?"

Ginny rolled her eyes as wet-lettuce crumbled again. Some people just couldn't handle stress.

"Besides," Harry added, "we won't be using the door."

*      *      *

"You're the ones that wanted to hit them from as many sides as possible. And how much more surprised can they get?"

Ginny shook her head as she decanted the final potion. 'Sirius, I don't care how good you claim the explosives are. Even if you manage to blow a hole in the rather thick ceiling, it'll be raining mortar and chunks of stone and you'll end up hurting the hostages. It's not much of a rescue if you knock them all out when making your grand entrance."

Sirius grinned. "Who said anything about blowing stuff up? The ceiling in the Great Hall is suspended from the stone. There's a trapdoor in the floor above that lets you inside. It's more like a very dense fog."

"How'd you find that out?"

Snape's face wavered in front of Sirius' eyes for a moment. He'd been so pleased. "We wanted to give Snape a special birthday message from the Marauders. It's amazing what you can do with the right motivation. We bewitched the ceiling to look like Snape's mother and —"

"Okay," said Harry, looking up from where he was laying out the finished potions on the bed. "We'll do the window, you can do the ceiling. But," he pre-empted, "you're _not_ descending from the clouds in a shaft of golden bloody light."

Misery guts. Sirius'd obviously failed in his duty as godfather. Prongs would have been appalled. Sirius snapped off a salute. "Yes, Sah!"

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored Sirius in favour of carefully gathering up the almost putty-like block of explosive Ginny had made. Sirius had no idea how she'd gone from his coarse grains of gunpowder to the faintly sticky substance, but it would make blowing holes in things far less fiddly. He smiled. The pranks they could have pulled... Lily had probably been better at the technical bits, but Ginny was willing. Or would have been. He ought to suggest to George that they take her on at WWW once Quidditch had run its course. After all, it'd be a waste if she never realised her true vocation.

"No movement from the Death Eaters?" asked Harry five minutes later, as the three of them were loading for rat.

Hetty shook her head.

"Right," said Harry, tugging on the makeshift harness he'd put his potions in. "Sync your watches everyone." Sirius tapped his watch and moved it to the next minute. "Time is zero forty-three in three... two... one..."

Sirius tapped his watch again.

Harry straightened up and cleared his throat. "Right then... we've got ten hostages being held by six tangos. We've no intel on armament, save that the two that tried to collect Ginny and me were armed only with wands. On the other hand, the others don't seem to be bothered by two of their mates disappearing into thin air, so maybe they're making this up as they go along."

Ginny snorted. "And managed to get access to controlled spells at the same time."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe Pettigrew's finally cracked and we're dealing with a nutjob — who knows? Anyway, we can deal with why once they're all in custody. The priority is to get the hostages out alive, though, and bugger the hostage-takers, so hit them as hard as you can. Ginny and I are entering via the top table window, and Sirius is coming in via the ceiling. Ideally, Sirius, come in close to the side of the room so we can catch them in a crossfire and don't need to worry about blue on blue. Throw a potion or two in first to disorientate them before going in as you'll be a sitting duck going down the hole, and for Merlin's sake remember to cover your eyes — we don't need you blinded as well. We make our move at zero fifty four unless the Death Eaters start executing hostages. Any questions?"

Sirius shook his head. The recap wasn't especially clear, but they'd been over it umpteen times before. "I'm ready. Let's go and sleigh them." He grinned as Ginny groaned. "We'll have them all doing the jail house rock in a jiffy."

Harry was suddenly standing in front of him, eyes boring into his. "This is not a _game_, Sirius. Understood? You screw up, you treat it like it's a joke, you and possibly the hostages may end up dead. You're a civilian and could get prosecuted if you're not deemed to be acting in self-defence, and if that happens Kingsley'll be raking me over the coals. The last thing we need is for you to accidentally slot a hostage, so stop screwing around!"

Sirius winked at Hetty.

"Treat this like a big prank," said Ginny quietly as she put her hair into a tight bun, "and you'll be a liability and I'll drop you myself — Siriusly."

Sirius felt his mouth drop. "That's _my_ line! Can't a man —"

Ginny made a rather alarming noise in her throat, her face red. "I said 'seriously' — _S—E—R—I—O—U—S—L—Y_. We haven't all had a sense of humour bypass. And unless you pull yourself together you won't be a man anymore — you'll be an eunuch. So —"

"I think I understand why MLE wouldn't touch you," said Harry as he guided the still irate Ginny toward the door. "The psychiatrists must have loved you."

Sirius just stared after them as they slipped out the door, scanning the Marauders' Map. Was that really how he looked from outside?

"You staying here, Hetty? Or coming with the psychopath?" Sirius was surprised by just how bitter he sounded. "If you stay here you're on your own if the Death Eaters wake up. If nothing else, the Great Hall ceiling's a better place to hide."

Hetty stared at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Turn around please."

Sirius rolled his eyes but turned around anyway. It was nothing he hadn't already seen, and it wasn't as though it was all that wonderful anyway.

Creeping around Hogwarts without the map was a sodding nightmare. Every junction and open space was a further spike in blood pressure, the house-elves having suddenly decided that the last half-hour was a good time to replace all the torches and armour and everything in the corridors with Death Eater shaped things. He'd even go so far as to admit that the window Hetty'd hexed did have a faintly humanoid shaped shadow in it as far as he was concerned too. Hetty's breathing seemed loud enough to be heard in the St. Mungo's psych ward over all the screaming crazies as well. Even Pettigrew hadn't been this much of a problem. And if Hetty was as useless as a fight as she seemed to be he was going to have to keep an eye on her too.

"How are you going to get down?" whispered Hetty as he opened the trapdoor, looking down at the orange-coloured back of the magical sky.

"Slide down on a rope."

Hetty bit her lip. "They'll be shooting at the ceiling, won't they?"

Sirius' hands were all clammy. "Probably."

"So... I'm not really much safer up here, then."

Sirius shook his head as he began to use magic to carefully widen the trapdoor. "No, sorry."

Hetty's face looked white in the wandlight. "How long does the rope need to be?"

"Are you dancing?"

Hetty bit her lip and nodded to herself. "I'm dancing."

"Then it's fifty meters."

"The Great Hall's never fifty meters tall."

"Better safe than sorry," said Sirius, making the hole wider.

The knot in his stomach got even bigger and his throat was dry. All for one and one for all, then. James'd be telling him that only he could pull a bird while preparing to attack a load of Death Eaters, right about now. They'd never manage it, but the banter between the pair of them had helped. Stopped him from worrying about the spells he was about to get fired at him. Everyone's luck had to run out sometime.

This time he'd make sure it was Wormtail's, come hell or high water.

Sirius glanced at his watch then conjured a rope, securely attaching it to the arched stone above them.

"Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow..."

*      *      *

Harry glanced furtively around, then pushed open the small window. He glanced outside; the grounds outside were empty, with only the firelight from the media camp by the outer wall showing any sign of life. All clear.

He slunk over the window ledge and dropped lightly onto the narrow balcony outside; Ginny followed a moment later. The balcony was only used to clean the outside of the vast stained-glass window, and so the window they had climbed out through was the only obvious way out onto it.

They edged their way along, light from the hall shining through the stained glass, casting brightly-coloured shadows on them. Harry looked down at his watch.

"Four minutes."

Ginny shuffled past him and started pulling handfuls of the malleable dough out of the satchel she'd acquired somewhere. She looked up...

...into the grotesquely grinning Harry simulacrum, glowing at her out of the glass. And then she knew exactly where to plant the charge.

She moulded the dough in her hands, attaching long rolls of the explosive to the glass. A strand here, a few strands there...

She stood back and surveyed her handiwork.

"Are you sure that's enough?" Harry asked over her shoulder. "Didn't they say this window was shatterproofed?"

"You're right," she agreed. "I'd better add some more..."

She dove back into the satchel.

*      *      *

"Are you ready?" Sirius asked. He stood next to Hetty on the edge of the hatch, his wand tucked into his watchband and two potion phials in his other hand.

She nodded, mutely. Something in her eyes suggested that what they were about to do was starting to sink in.

Sirius grinned. It was a long time since he had had this much fun. He looked at his watch again, his teeth showing as the second hand ticked closer to zero hour.

"Hetty?"

She didn't say anything.

"Hetty?" He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, which seemed to snap her out of it. "Wakey-wakey. Showtime!"

"Um. Yes. I suppose so..."

He looked at his watch for the last time before kickoff.

"Four... three... two... one..."

He dropped the glass phials into the foggy orange sky below him and gripped the rope.

*      *      *

The window had, by now, quite a lot of explosives on it.

"Think that'll do it?" Ginny asked.

Harry nodded approvingly. If nothing else, it would obliterate that ghastly caricature of his face.

"Ready?"

Ginny took one last look at the charges and grinned back at him. "Not to sound like Sirius or anything, but... well, I'd like to see the Marauders beat this one."

They backed away to the window they'd exited through, grabbed a few phials each, and glanced at each other.

"Four," Harry said. "Three. Two. One..."

*      *      *

The two glass phials dropped peacefully, through the foggy sky that the ancient enchantment provided a few inches from the ceiling, tumbled lazily down towards the unsuspecting Death Eaters, hit the floor...

...and shattered, mixing the liquid in the phials with the powder in the small glass bulb inside. A fraction of a fragment of a tenth of a second passed, then...

The world exploded.

*      *      *

Harry touched the tip of his wand to the fuse running along the balcony floor.

> _A hundred yards away, on the edge of the media camp where he'd crept off for a quiet smoke, stood a reporter for the Daily Prophet. _
> 
> _ "There's something you don't see every day," he mused as he took what would become the most-published photograph of his career. _

With a thunderous blast the charge detonated, turning the charmed window to dust and blasting the granite railing off the balcony.

Almost before the noise had had time to die down, Harry and Ginny were at the gaping hole, flinging the phials inside as the twin bangs from Sirius' phials roared out.

They followed them in, dropping from the window and landing without too much of a thump on the top table.

They covered their ears, turning away from the centre of the room as the phials they had thrown erupted in a dizzying staccato of blinding, actinic light and eardrum-shattering sound.

Six phials... six bangs. They rose from their landing crouches, drew their wands, and surged forwards.

Sirius, meanwhile, was dropping head first from the ceiling, a manic grin on his face as he plummeted downwards. His feet were wrapped around the rope, slowing his descent, and with his right hand he flung mild but incapacitating jinxes at anyone who seemed to be blinking away the purple afterimages of the flashbang phials.

The flagstones approached. He timed his stop carefully, grabbed the rope tightly with his spare hand, and let his feet flip over the top.

He landed with a slight wobble, looked around for Hetty...

"Hetty?"

She wasn't there. But an orange flickering caught his attention. He looked up.

One of the phials must have hit the enormous banner hanging across the room; it was blazing merrily, and hanging just above it, tangled in her rope, was Hetty.

"...help?" she squeaked weakly.

Sirius thought for a moment, aimed a levitation spell...

And something clouted him in the back of the head.

He spun, ducked, blinked away the stars floating in front of his eyes, and lashed out at random.

There was a cloaked figure there, but he couldn't quite focus. He punched again, catching something this time. A muffled "oof" suggested that somewhere, ouchness was being inflicted.

This was good. He fumbled about a bit, found an ear. Even better. Where there was one ear, there was usually another.

He shoved his wand into a pocket, fumbled blindly about until his spare hand caught a second ear. Then he yanked those ears briskly towards him, meeting the approaching head with his own.

The impact stung, but at least he'd caught it with his forehead. His opponent hadn't; blood streaming from a broken nose, the unconscious Death Eater dropped to the floor.

Sirius looked around. _What was it..._

"Sirius?"

_Oh yeah._

He looked up, then conjured a thick mattress. A quick cutting curse upwards and Hetty started screaming — quite literally — downwards, on an unanticipated blind date with gravity.

The mattress was thick enough, and soft enough, and only slightly too springy.

And so once Hetty had bounced off the mattress and landed flat on her face on a table, she was only slightly bruised and dented.

"Mnk," she said, lifting herself onto one elbow. She blinked, bleary-eyed, as she looked around. "Did I win?"

Then she pitched forward, leaving a face print in a cucumber sandwich.

"_Plombignis mitraillus,_" said Harry as he loped forwards. It was a useful spell, much more useful than having to shout an incantation for every hex; it created hexes _in potentia_ that could be unleashed by a mere thought.

It had its downsides, of course.

He hurled a glaring orange burst at a cloaked figure raising its wand at him.

It didn't have a stun setting, for a start.

The cloaked figure fell to the ground, scorched holes in its robe sizzling quietly.

On the other hand, _plombignis_ meant less paperwork.

To Harry's left, Ginny unleashed a similar flurry of orange plasma. Another Death Eater fell.

A hostage sprang to his feet and stumbled at Harry. A glance, a moment's instinctive thought, no sign of a weapon...

"STAY DOWN!" Harry bellowed, knocking the hostage unceremoniously to the floor. The hostage obliged.

Sirius glanced around. Hetty was out for the count, the Death Eater at his feet was still dozing, bleeding quietly into the flagstones. That was about...

No, there was another one. He headed that way.

The last one had grabbed one of the hostages and manoeuvred himself against a wall. Harry, Ginny and Sirius converged on him, wands raised and ready.

"Drop the wand!" Harry shouted, trying to get a clean shot at the Death Eater. "Look at your friends! Drop the wand!"

In response, the figure just pressed the tip of his wand against the hostage's head.

"I'll kill her, I swear! I'll do it!"

The three rescuers spread out slightly; with Sirius on one flank, Ginny on the other, and Harry in the middle, there was no way the Death Eater could watch all three of them.

He tried, though, but Ginny easily sidestepped the clumsily-flung blaze of green light.

Then a stinging hex from Sirius' wand hit the Death Eater's leg. He stumbled, spun...

But the distraction had been enough. Harry lunged forward, catching the hostage in an out-of-nowhere rugby tackle, crunching her painfully to the ground... but away from the Death Eater.

"_Reducto praejudi extremis_!" shouted Ginny, and the Death Eater went away, spread into a charred, greasy film on the stone wall.

He, um, didn't get up.

Harry picked the hostage up off the floor.

"Are you injured?"

"He... you... buh..." the hostage gibbered unintelligibly. "He's..."

"She's fine," Ginny declared, unceremoniously shoving the hostage towards the door and glancing around. "Looks like we're clear here."

Harry scanned the Hall; it did indeed seem to be clear of tangos.

"Yeah, all right," he agreed. "We'd better get everyone out."

A thought struck him, and he twisted the flux ring on his finger as Ginny and Sirius started herding people towards the doors.

"DMLE."

It seemed to be working; the inhibitor spell must have been dispelled. A moment later...

"Magical Law Enforcement, can I help you?"

"Harry Potter, Auror Department. We've had a major incident at..."

"At Hogwarts, yes. We have a crew on the way to resolve the situation and secure the building."

"Um." Harry quickly unfolded the map. Apart from the illegible cluster leaving the Great Hall, the castle was devoid of life. "I think we may have already done that."

*      *      *

They guided the stream of hostages down the stairs, bustling them out. Those who couldn't walk for one reason or another were carried, but since most of them were pretty out of it anyway they were pretty amenable to instructions, so it all worked out. The main thing was to be quick about it. After all, who knew what the Death Eaters might have planted as a backup plan?

The horde of people stumbled past, trying to get out fast without falling down the stairs. Then a thought hit Harry.

"Sirius," he called, "did you catch..."

Then he spotted a shock of platinum blond hair, poorly concealed under a hastily-arranged hood.

"Draco!" he shouted.

The figure started, then fumbled for something inside his cloak.

Things happened fast after that.

Harry grabbed Draco, dragged him out of the line, and flung him into the balustrade.

Draco hit the rail, and groped inside his cloak once more.

Then a flurry of orange blasts hit him; _plombignis_ curses from all three liberators blasted him over the railing, and the magic of gravity helped him the ten feet to the floor.

Harry hurried down the stairs, keeping his wand rather unnecessarily trained on the sprawled figure. There were rather more elbows and knees than Harry remembered Draco starting with.

He kicked the cloak aside, and his eyes widened.

"Bugger..." he breathed.

A small sphere of red metal lay there, interlocking holes revealing a glass bottle inside. And inside the glass bottle, bubbling and roiling, was a red liquid.

And it was turning more and more yellow for every second.

Harry grabbed it and flung it overarm up to Sirius.

"Into the Hall!"

Sirius caught the bomb with the panache of a labradoodle catching a tennis ball, and flung it on into the now-empty Great Hall.

"Move!" he shouted, ushering the last of the hostages before him down the stairs and out into the grounds. They could check identities later.

They were halfway to the media camp before they paused to look back.

"Harry, what the hell...?"

"Telum Nox Terminatum," Harry explained. "Nasty buggers — we confiscated half a dozen of them from the Malfoy cellar back in—"

A resounding blast interrupted him, turning the night to day as the device exploded inside the hall.

"DUCK!"

Fragments of Great Hall started raining down around them. Ginny turned to Harry as a particularly large chunk rammed itself into the ground next to them.

"I think," she said drily, "that they may need some new tables in there."

*      *      *

Outside the castle, it was organised chaos. The DMLE had arrived just in time to sort the hostages and take credit for the rescue, and Sirius, Harry and Ginny lounged against a sixteen-foot-tall gargoyle that had landed head first in the lawn after the explosion.

"I took care of the two who burst into our room," Ginny was saying, "and there was that one in the Great Hall, and the one I sort of exploded a bit..."

"Draco on the stairs," Harry added. "That's five. Plus the one I slotted in the Great Hall."

"And I gave one a Glasgow Kiss." Sirius grinned, pointing to the bruise in the middle of his forehead. "I've always wanted to try that."

Ginny frowned.

"Well, that's just seven." A thought crossed her mind. "Who got Wormtail?"

"He wasn't one of yours?"

"No."

"Oh." The implications sank in. Harry leapt to his feet and set off towards the hostages. "Hurry, we might already be too late!"

They ran to the cluster of hostages and started scrutinising them. They had formed a vague sort of queue in the general direction of the DMLE tent where an officer sat taking names.

"Have you had a Peter Pettigrew through?" Harry demanded as he ran up, flashing his auror credentials.

"Uh..." The young hit wizard checked his list. "I don't have that name on the list..."

But Harry had already set off down the line, wand in hand. He scanned every face, roughly turning anyone looking the other way.

Sirius had a different idea, though.

"Peter's dense, so he won't have figured out a new plan yet. And he's a coward." He smirked at Ginny. "He'll be at the back of the line."

And so he was. Huddled in a hooded cloak at the back of the line, trying to act nonchalant, was a chubby, buck-toothed man with the world's worst attempt at an innocent face. _He's even trying to whistle, for God's sake,_ Ginny thought. _And failing._

He hadn't even noticed them yet, even when Sirius gestured for Harry to join them.

Wands drawn, they stepped closer...

...and closer...

_Ye gods, he's oblivious,_ Ginny thought.

...and...

"DOWN ON THE BUGGERING GROUND," Harry bellowed.

It was a beautiful sight, Ginny mused. You could almost see what little spine Wormtail had leaping out through his ears and making a run for it. (Something less pleasant had made a run for it in a less metaphorical sense, but that's to be expected under the circumstances, and probably not something we can hold against him.)

Wormtail froze, startled, and with eyes wide turned slowly to face them.

He goggled at them.

"Eeep?" he asked, hopefully.

A predatory grin had appeared on Sirius' face, and Harry could have sworn that Sirius' canines were lengthening.

"Hello, Peter."

"Eeep."

"It's been a while, Peter."

"Eeep."

"You've been a bit naughty, haven't you, Peter?"

"Eeep."

"Time to die, Peter."

He raised his wand, aiming it directly between Wormtail's eyes.

"Avada—"

Harry knocked the wand away, cutting Sirius off before he could complete the incantation.

"No, Sirius. Not that one."

"I want to kill him. Honest, Harry, I really do want to make this snivelling little arse end. I don't care if he suffers or not, I just really want to live in a world without Peter bloody Pettigrew. Just one little AK, Harry, I promise, no one has to know."

Harry swept his gaze over the three hundred hostages who had been guests at a memorial gala just a few hours earlier, and let his eyes come to rest on Sirius.

"Okay," Sirius conceded, "not so many witnesses, that's a fair point."

"Not only witnesses," Ginny muttered, nodding towards a woman in a fuchsia trouser suit a short distance away. She wasn't holding a camera in exactly the sort of way people don't hold cameras when they want to appear to be not holding cameras. "Bloody Skeeter's over there."

"Twelve years," Sirius spat impatiently, "three months, eleven days, eighteen hours... That's how long I spent in Azkaban, you know. All thanks to _that_ piece of—"

"Sirius..."

"Can't send him there. The Dementors are gone. He'd probably enjoy it. It's cold, damp, nasty... just the place for a rat. And plenty of company, too."

"He did save us five years ago," Harry reminded him.

"To be fair, though," Ginny said, "that was just because that bloody life debt would have killed him if he hadn't."

While they argued, Wormtail's brain was frantically directing its admittedly limited resources to the task of surviving. Then he saw it.

The man in front of him, who had turned to watch the spectacle, had left his wand in his breast pocket. Now, Wormtail thought, if he could just reach it...

"Fine," Sirius said. "I've already served my prison sentence for killing the little rat. I'll just take him back inside and slot him there. Happened during the assault, all nice and tidy."

He grabbed Wormtail's shoulder, yanked him round...

And Wormtail snatched the gawker's wand, raised it—

*      *      *

"It all worked out in the end, didn't it?" Harry said as the smoking remains of Peter Pettigrew were carried away behind them.

Sirius sat leaning against the gargoyle, staring up at the clear night sky, a pint of beer in his hand.

"You know," he said, "I thought I'd enjoy it more than that. He's dead, we're even, and it was all nice and legal, but..." He tailed off.

Harry nodded, patting him on the shoulder. "It's always like that the first few times. Feeling too much, or not feeling enough?"

Sirius sighed, thinking for a moment.

"Both, I think. That _plombignis_ I hit him with... I didn't feel it. It was so quick. He just pulled that wand, and... nothing. Bam, he's dead, and I didn't feel a thing."

"That's what debrief's for," Harry reassured him. "I think you're coming with us back to the department tonight, just in case. Ginny, how are you doing?"

Ginny looked much more relaxed. "I'm fine. I've done nothing wrong — why should I feel guilty?"

She smiled at him.

"They got between me and you. You or them, Harry. They were going to kill you, maybe dozens of innocent hostages... Honestly, they couldn't have given me an easier choice if they'd tried."


End file.
